Many Winds
by Absol Master
Summary: Every place in Victoria is unique, and beautiful or interesting in its own way. Here are six poems about each place.


A 6 in 1 poem collection! Every place in Victoria Island is special in its own unique way, and all are really good poem subjects. So, read on, and I hope you enjoy it. I called it "Many Winds" because one thing which every place has is wind, and that is the symbol I used to differentiate the six different places.

* * *

Many Winds

I

Silver, foam-tipped waves

Gently caress the stones of the harbour

Falling, growing, ebbing, going higher

Ships dipping and rising on each swell

* * *

Here the wind is kind

It strokes the treetops and the water

Touches the white stone buildings

And fills the bleached sails of the grandest ships

* * *

And through the skies a song goes on

A song not sung by human voices

A song made up by the harmony

Of flowing winds and dancing silver waves

* * *

Such peaceful seaside harbour

The air here is calm, almost magic

Everyone is captivated by its spell

By the rising symphony on the ribbons of wind.

* * *

II

The merry dance of the breezes in the sky

Fills the town with joy

It makes the leaves flutter, carries them away

Lightly over roofs of the village

* * *

The place is happy, it sparkles with laughter

The stone-laid paths are bright in the sun

Every garden is a picture of life

Painted in the shades of lush green, white and red

* * *

And the lively market is abuzz with talk

Of traders, merchants and people out to shop

The ring of coins and shouts of men selling wares

Fills the currents of cooling wind

* * *

Happiness is at the very core of this village

Every leaf and crack and stone seems to smile

Even the joyful sun is not too bright

And the winds are not too strong.

* * *

III

Vehicles roar by on the tar roads

Blowing out clouds of fume as they go

Shiny bodies zipping past

In a blur of colour and noise

* * *

They move on in straight lines between buildings

The tall structures reaching into the sunset sky

Antennas and spires piercing from their tops

Into the windless, smoke-filled air

* * *

There is no chance for silence here

Everything happens so fast

Without a gap, one thing after another

People working through their daily routines

* * *

All this speed and noise and bustle,

All the lights and sights and sounds

Overwhelm the senses, there is no rest

In this urbanised city, where smoky wind blows.

* * *

IV

Steep mountains, deep valleys

Wreathed and cloaked by mist

The veils of white dance around the rises

They swirl thickly round the rocks

* * *

The winds are like whips

Tearing mercilessly at the rocky mountains

Stirring dead leaves into the turbulence

Sending mists swirling like smoke

* * *

Danger resides in every step of the way

Uncertain footing could lead to death

Creatures live here, all almost unknown

The danger is ever imminent in this terrain

* * *

Yet, the mist-wreathed mountains

Are picturesque, a painting of light and shadow

What other place could yield such dangerous beauty?

None, but the craggy peaks of the mountain range.

* * *

V

Squirrels skipping from branch to branch

Leaves shaking in their wake

Dewdrops hanging on each one

Showering down in a rain of glitter

* * *

The sunlight dances between them

And filters through the green foliage

Like magical rays of light

Pouring down onto each leaf and flower, turning it gold

* * *

The air is sweet, a soft breeze

Stirs the leaves and petals of the flowers

And it is cool, in the shadows cast

By the towering, century-old canopy

* * *

It is like a cathedral in this forest

The walls formed by the grand old trunks

The roof a beautiful, an ancient leaf-green

And the echoing sighs of the breeze filling the air.

* * *

VI

Darkness. Shadow. That is all there is here

The trees grow tall, leaves dense,

Their trunks wound round by old vines

The branches too many to count

* * *

The ground is damp, after decades of sunless days

The air is cold, windless, devoid of warmth

Shaded from light by layer over layer

Of black leaves and tangles of branches

* * *

But sounds? The place is alive with sounds

Beetles scuttling in the leaves of the forest floor

Geckoes climbing through the maze of branches

And stranger creatures, living in the deep shadows

* * *

So much the forest hides from us

Thousands upon thousands of unseen mysteries

Nothing ever finds its way through the branches

Not even a trace of wind.

* * *

Yeah, what did you think? I liked (personally) the last one. If you hadn't guessed, it's about Sleepywood.

I started writing it at the Bangkok airport. :)


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